Fall In Line
by monkeygirl77
Summary: "I'm sure by now that you've heard of Dad's move?" he nodded and the other archangel continued, "We can seeking your assistance, if we are to stand a chance against Him we need someone created outside of His game, and—"He stopped him with a raised hand, "I will not help you, Gabriel, for I do not care about this world. I will move on to the next."
1. Chapter 1

He knew it the moment that their Father had decided to call it The End on Earth, he felt the shift in the wind, he felt the power changing in the currents, he felt the souls he had long since reaped reappear as though they had never been reaped in the first place.

And yet, with all of the chaos he knew to be unfolding around him, the cares he could give for the tragedy were close to bottom of his glass. He ran his finger over the rim of the sweaty glass, creating a simple ring for a soft moment, and closed his eyes. The sweet calls of the souls overwhelmed him a moment. There was a ring of condensation gathering on the white napkin that his glass at atop of, and he lifted it slowly, twirling the contents softly with a gentle rotation of his wrist, and he brought the glass to rest on his lips to drink the rest of his cares away.

Staring into the empty cup, he sighed deeply, setting it down once more in the circle of sweat created in the center of the napkin it had been set on and stood from his chair.

It was a local gathering place, where the fisherman and young ones met, the end of the road bar that only the locals knew the trek to. Though the management welcomed outsiders, those sort were few and far in between, and they were just as happy to serve the local population as they were any possible visitors. It was a small place, out of the way of the town itself, among the hills and snow drifts. A place where everyone knew one another, and if they met a new face, then that was just as well.

The place was lightly packed, two tenders behind the bar, a fire raging and cracking in old brick fireplace along the farther wall, snow and wind beating at the old glass windows.

Chatter filled the silence softly, drowning out the silence of those there for more personal of reasons, and the chatter was soft, rolling evenly with the hissing and crackling from the wood burning orange and red. It was warm, not too much so, just the right amount. Groups were gathered, a few couples spread among the outer tables, and in the corner sat a lone man. Hidden among the shadows, where the pale lighting didn't quite reach, only enough to give him presence. He sat leaning back in his chair, not watching any one person in particular, swirling the ice in his glass softly. Silver eyes flashed in the soft candle light from his table, illuminating a youthful face, the slight curve in his pale lips, the shadows dancing across his face, obscuring his identity, though he was doubtful anyone in this lone desolate place knew who he was exactly, but some would sooner then they'd hope to.

He stood from his chair, reaching for his glass once more, and moved with the silent sort of fluidity that was unseen. None in the small town tavern heard him steps, nor noticed him move around them for the bar, and he sat his glass down on the top of the polished wooden surface. He raised a finger to the barkeeper, _another glass please_, and the human nodded as he reached for the golden liquid over his shoulder and to the left, pulled the stopper out, and refilled his glass.

"More ice?"

"Yes." He answered simple one worded answers and it was not even blinked at in this establishment, people came to celebrate or talk to one another, some came to just watch the evening turn to night in silence, and the barkeep nodded, "Four please."

The human raised an eyebrow at the specific number, a number that meant something much deeper then the human could ever understanding, but didn't ask on it as he fished four cubes from his freezer and plopped them into his glass.

He nodded in thanks, taking his cup back, turning to return to his seat. The glass met his lips for the first sip of the bitter beverage, and he humored himself, the chaos had yet to reach the town he was in, but it soon would, none would be spared from his Father's childish tantrum.

There was a soft ringing, the bell above the door, ringing as another body filled the crowded space, followed by three more. Some, the unlucky few who were not so fortunate to get a set further away from the entrance, glared at the group that entered from the blizzard outside, letting the cold surge into their place of warmth. There was a soft apology, murmured under ones breath as though embarrassed by the action alone, he pushed the crowd of them in further and shut the door behind him with another soft apology, though the others who had been angered had already forgotten the matter as they turned back to their conversations and card games. The warmth of the room, from the blazing fire at the front end, overpowered the cold and fought it away with arms raised in triumph. The shortest of the crew, brushing a few fingers from his blonde-brown hair, golden colored eyes roamed over the crowd, and he knew it to be in search of him. It took him a moment to find who he sought after and when he had, instructed the group forward, and he sat back in his chair, one arm extended as he refused to let go of his glass.

He hummed, meeting the golden gaze for the briefest of moments, and took a sip from his bitter drink, setting the glass back on the ringed napkin.

The one with the golden eyes murmured something to the three behind him, and though they looked objected to it, they complied as he stepped forward on his own to stand at the opposing side of the table.

"Brother."

He smiled, a twisted bit of a thing, and took another drink, "I think we're beyond those titles, Gabriel."

The other man, shorter then the one he addressed, faltered slightly. He knew, after all, why wouldn't he, of the death of their older brother and by his hands, as indirectly as it may have been, he had died broken hearted. There would have been no peace for him.

"Okay…..Mind if we join you?"

He hummed, "I do, actually, but when has someone's objection stopped you." Gabriel faltered again, his mind reeling at the attitude he was receiving, at the cold shoulder. But he sat, and motioned for the others to join them, as he twirled the golden liquid in his glass once more.

The three of the them stared at him as though he were a mystery to figure out, and it brought a smile to light his features, and his older brother watched him carefully.

"What do you want of me?"

"I'm sure by now that you've heard of Dad's move?" he nodded and the other archangel continued, "We can seeking your assistance, if we are to stand a chance against Him we need someone created outside of His game, and—"

He stopped him with a raised hand, "The _cancer_," he smiled at the flinch it produced from the Messenger, "Was created outside of His hand." The other three were confused, so for their benefit, he elaborated, "He was created by the hands of the Darkness, in resemblance of Her Brother, a gift if you will."

"But he's—"

"He is not dead." He choose to ignore the exaggerated groan from the short man on the left of him, "But he will not play the game any longer. The chosen villain has walked off the chess board. Tell me, Gabriel," He turned to look at the other archangel, taking a sip from his glass, "Why do you think He forced the Cancer into the cage?"

"He destroyed humanity."

He shook his head, "No, you see, he _freed _them. He gave them their free will, he knew, as so very few did, what Father's true nature was like, and when He knew that, He couldn't take the fact that there was something in His story that He couldn't control, so, like the Darkness, He locked him away." He gesture around the bar, "We did you think I was banished to roam the Earth? I had done nothing wrong. I was created outside of His hands, as you said, by the hands of Void. I am nothingness. I am the end."

"Azrael—"

"I will not help you, _brother_." He leaned forward in his seat, "Gather your false friends, and leave my sight, you broke our brothers heart, and you friend here killed him, the only reason you seek us out now is because you have need of us."

"You're a coward."

He shrugged, "This world will end and I will move on to the next one, our older brother will move on to the next one." He smiled as he realized the irony of it, "You call me the coward. But it was you who willingly left your flock to avoid war. I was written as feared death, you were written as the coward, by the greatest Writer of them all."


	2. Chapter 2

When it appears, they aren't going to be leaving him to his peace, he heaves a soft sigh, and lifts his glass up, pressing the edge to his lips, and takes a sip of the bitter drink. He turns his attention from the older archangel, eyeing the ones he brought with him, bringing them within mere feet of him was an insult, a slap to the face, but he'll let it slide, for the moment, he's in a rather even mood.

His silver eyes land on one being, the seraph, who's plans for the greater good always seem to align with what his humans ask of him. "Hello, Castiel."

The younger angel eyes him wearily, as he should, and nods lightly in a respectful greeting, at least he knew that much. "Azrael."

He lowers his glass, swirling the contents around, and sets it back down on the napkin, matching the outline with the edges perfectly. "I see you've cleaned yourself up, how pleasant." He rubs a finger over his lip, catching a drop of his bitter drink, and rubs his thumb and forefinger together as he lowers his hand back down to rest on the table top, rubbing his fingers together still. "First, it was the Leviathan, that was a swell time, I was a very busy man through out all that." He frowns lightly, though his silver eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then, you soiled yourself allying yourself with a demon, an uppity sort, thinking he could ever handle the Throne of Hell. You killed my brother."

One of the humans butts in, he doesn't spare them a single glance, staring into his younger brother's blue eyes, but his forefinger and thumb fall still. "Raphael was a girl when he died."

"Yes, I noticed, thank you, Dean Winchester, for the reminder." He tilts his head slightly. "Shanice was the only vessel available in Raphael's bloodline, my brother will take any vessel when he is needed on Earth, he has no preference, but he prefers male pronouns." He nods slightly to the Seraph. "He had some choice words for you." He smiles lightly. "Then, a mad dog spell by a lowly witch, not even a part of a high coven, how embarrassing, to be so weak. I think it's rather poetic that His favorites all become empty shells." He curls his fingers around his glass, raising it back to his lips, and takes another sip. "Many have crossed my path by your hand, it is a wonder why you're not more afraid then you are, some of them were quite vindictive in their grievance, with Father bringing everyone back for His grand finale, I'd be a bit more cautious to those who might come to seek vengeance." The older angel sets his glass back down on his napkin and leans back in his chair. "You killed my reaper."

"Billie Death now, she lived."

"No, Castiel, I am Death, now." Azrael looks down to his golden drink for a moment. "I gave her the mantle of carrying out my duty for me. But I am still her boss, I can take it back whenever I please to."

His eyes return to the archangel sitting across from him, and a smile ghosts over his features when the elder angel squirms slightly under his intense stare. "Do you think Gabriel will protect you?" He tilts his head and clicks his tongue. "He could hardly protect you from a measly fairy, where he stands now, that's why he's hoping to get all the big players on his side, he has no fire power left to fight with."

Azrael raises his hand, he wants a refill, and looks to his companions. "Would you care for a drink?" A waitress comes, takes their orders, and leaves to fulfill them. "You are not the only one egging for me to join your cause. _Chuck _came to see me some days ago, He gave a very convincing offer, what can you offer me in return for my alliance?"

"Saving humanity should be enough for you." The older hunter growls lowly, as though to appear threatening, perhaps to others he was, Azrael could swat him as easily as one could swat a fly. "You're an angel, aren't you, isn't protecting humanity your mission or something!"

"Ah, arrogant human, I am the angel of _Death_. I only see the humans when they _die_. I have no sentimental attachment to the human race. Why should I break a sweat for it?" Azrael nods at the waitress as she returns and sets their drinks down. "So, I repeat, what can you offer me?" He takes a test sip, he ordered something new, and hums in pleasure as he takes another. "My services aren't free of charge."

Gabriel glares down at his drink. "You wouldn't be asking for payment if it was Raph sitting here asking for your help."

"Raphael would not _ask_. He'd _expect _me to help him, and I would, because I happen to _like _him."

"But you won't help me?"

Azrael sets his glass down, stirring the straw around softly, watching the colors swirl around and around. "I _don't _like you."

"So, you and the ninja turtle were close, then?"

He ignores the older hunter and turns his attention to the younger. "Hello, Samuel Winchester, it's nice to see you in one piece." Sam Winchester looks down to his drink pointedly, stirring it tensely, and he sighs, perhaps he's not one for conversation. "Cat got your tongue?"

"You don't talk to him! You talk to me!"

He sighs in annoyance and turns a dull glance to the elder hunter. "Dean Winchester, you witless ape, if I wanted to dilute my intelligence by attempting to hold an intelligent conversation with you, I'd need a few more drinks, perhaps something of the stronger variety." He raises a hand and mimes a zipping motion. "Please, cease your mindless chatter."

Dean Winchester's face grows red, but the younger brother elbows him in the side and their seraph sends him a muted glare, and he swallows whatever he was going to say with a chug of his beer. So unrefined.

Azrael turns his attention back to the Messenger. "Chuck offered me my own world, what can you offer me, Gabriel?"

The Messenger purses his lips and takes a tense sip of his sweet drink. "I don't have anything to offer you."

"Pity. It seems my decision has been made for me, what I would want with my own world, I don't know, but it's something more then you have."

"Wait, no, I can think of something."

"Think fast, I won't humor you for much longer."

Gabriel takes another sip of his drink. "If it was Raph who came to you for help, you'd give it to him."

The younger archangel takes a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around, and takes another sip. "Yes, I would."

The Messenger sets his glass down on the table. "Then, I'll find him, you've always been closest to him, my offer is your reunion."

"Hmm, tempting, very tempting." He circles his finger around the rim of his glass. "I would like to be with him again, I do miss him, very much." He smiles at them, it shows itself as a kind smile, but it's much too sharp. "You have three days."

"Three days! I don't even know where to _start _looking!"

"Then, if I were you, I'd get to work."


End file.
